John 6:1-21 "Abundance and Generosity"

You are welcome to use parts of this sermon, but if you do, please attribute them properly!

         As I read our Gospel story for this week, it occurred to me that our Bible contains a number of tales about food and eating.  In the Old Testament, we find the one about God providing manna (bread) from heaven and quail for the Hebrew people to eat as they wandered in the desert.  In addition, if you look in the Book of 2 Kings, you will find a passage about twenty loaves of barley bread that ended up being enough to feed a hundred men.  And those stories are just two of many examples.

         In the New Testament, we find renditions of the last supper in all four gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke and John).  Then there is that delightful little vignette about Jesus meeting his disciples for a fish breakfast on the beach after the resurrection.  In addition, we can also find all sorts of tales about the numerous occasions when Jesus ate with tax collectors and other misfits and outcasts.  And, of course, there is the story – the only miracle story found in all four of our gospels, in fact - of Jesus feeding five thousand people who had gathered on a hillside outside of the City of Tiberius to hear him preach and teach. 

      Now, believe me, these folks spreading out on the grassy slope were not ones you would go out of your way to hang out with, and Tiberius was no place you would ever want to call home. Herod Antipas, the current ruler of Galilee, built it around 15 AD, named it in honor of the Roman Emperor, and designated it as his capital city. 

         Most likely, he expected people to come flocking – all that brand newness.  However, no Jew would ever want to live in Tiberius because Herod had completely ignored deeply held Judaic religious beliefs and had gone and built the city on top of a sacred burial ground.  And who wants to live atop an old graveyard?

         However, Herod, being both a king and a bully, was not to be outdone by mere religion.  And since he knew that a city is not really a city unless people live in it, he forcibly transplanted poor folks from rural Galilee into his new urban area.  Historical sources also tell us that he populated Tiberius with freed slaves and criminals. 

         As you might expect, the crime rate was really high, and jobs for farmers were mighty scarce.  Food insecurity was a fact of life, and riots were commonplace. 

It is said that when Herod anticipated violence, he would set up makeshift bread distribution centers to quiet the rabble.  Josephus, a Jewish historian who wrote in the early 1st century, said that the inhabitants of Tiberias were “a promiscuous rabble, made up of poverty-stricken people from any and all places of origin.”

         It was this disenchanted and unemployed bunch, poised to be rabble-rousers at any moment, hungry on so many levels, that flocked to the hillside near the Sea of Galilee when they heard that Jesus – the healer, the teacher, the emergent great hope – had star billing for the afternoon. 

         They kept coming and coming and coming – all 5000 of them (and that was just the number of men, the Gospel writer tells us ) – their eyes dulled from want, their shoulders drooping from scarcity, their faces pinched with hunger, the bellies of their children protruding over stick-like legs, a common symptom of those who are starving.

         And as the mob assembled, Jesus turned to Phillip, one of his disciples, and asked, “Where can we buy enough food to feed all these people?”

        It was a question meant to stretch Phillip’s faith, and it failed miserably.  As United Methodist elder, Scott Knowlton wrote, “He probably SHOULD have said something like, ‘Well Jesus, I’ve seen you provide wine at a wedding from water, I know you healed with a word, and while I don’t want to sound like Satan, is it possible you could turn these stones into bread?   Or is there any chance you could just make some bread materialize?’”

         But Phillip didn’t.  Instead he focused on the logically obvious:  “There is no place to buy any groceries or provisions,” he declared.  “Walmart closed an hour ago.  And besides, we simply do not have the money. That is a fact.”

           Because Phillip was a bean counter, he quickly calculated that it would cost more than two hundred pieces of silver to buy enough bread for each person to get only a taste – and how ineffectual and inefficient would that be – and they could not afford to be throwing good money after bad. 

         How unimaginative!  How dull! And, under the circumstances, how faithless!  How T.S. Eliot:  “I have measured out my life in coffee spoons.”

         However, as Phillip was coming up with all the reasons why Jesus’ idea of a picnic would not work, Andrew started making the rounds of the crowd.  There was at least a small part of him that sure did not know how Jesus would ever pull off this stunt but all the same thought maybe he could. 

         Got any fish?  No.  Got any bread?  No.  Got any fish?  No.  Got any bread?  No. Four thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine people said no.  But one said yes. 

         It was a little boy.  He opened his backpack, reached inside, and brought out five loaves of barley bread – albeit small ones and somewhat on the stale side - and two fish - not exactly fresh either but they did not smell too bad.

          Like I said, Andrew was pretty sure that the boy’s lunch would not go very far, but Jesus chose to ignore his frail faith and started giving directions. “Sit everybody down on the grass and get them comfortable while I offer a prayer of thanksgiving to God, and then we will start passing out the picnic fixin’s.”

         And so they did.  And afterwards the disciples picked up twelve baskets of leftovers – twelve baskets!  Imagine!

         It was at this point that, with their bellies full, the crowd became unruly.  Not because they desired more food but because they wanted to crown Jesus king right then and there.  As Lutheran pastor Brian Malison speculated, “The problem with miracles is that one is never enough. Clearly the feeding of all those people with a limited amount of food was amazing. Think of the possibilities! If we make Jesus king, then we have answered our food shortage problem. And if he can make food stretch, think what he can do with the budget! And maybe he has some tricks up his sleeve for what to do with immigration, national security and jobs!” 

            Needless-to-say, our rabbi and his disciples made a hasty exit.  Jesus headed for the nearby hills. The disciples retreated to their boat, setting sail for safety away from the shore.

          And who knows why what happened next happened?  Maybe the disciples did not realize that they had left Jesus behind, but suddenly there he was - walking toward them – on the water – even though they were three or four miles offshore. 

         Now this was too much for one day:  first all the food, and now this – miracle heaped on miracle – who was this man of God they revered so much but who constantly surprised them?

It is no wonder that they were terrified until Jesus told them: “Don’t be afraid!  It’s me!  It’s me!  All will be well!  It’s me!  Do not worry!  All will be well!”  And with a sigh of immense relief, they hauled him into the boat, and so it was.

         Even to this day, it seems that food and spirituality go hand in hand. It is more than just an ancient Biblical thing too.  For example, did you know that, according to Reformed Church pastor Scott Hoezee, “in the mid-1800s there was a group of people in America known as the Millerites–a Christian sect firmly convinced that Jesus would return sometime late in the year 1843. He didn’t, setting off what was called “the Great Disappointment.”

         At least some of these folks, however, made the best of the situation by declaring that as a matter of fact Jesus had returned but that it had turned out to be an invisible, spiritual advent. Believing themselves to be living in an already-present millennial kingdom, these Adventists decided that as part of this new identity they should invent alternative foods as a sign of their not being fully in this world.

         So one preacher named Sylvester Graham invented a new kind of cracker for his congregation to eat - yes, the Graham Cracker. Peanut butter was also invented at this time, as was a variety of cold breakfast cereals, including something called a “corn flake,” perfected by Adventist devotee John Harvey Kellogg in a spiritual community located in Battle Creek, Michigan.”

         Interesting factoid for you to take from this sermon – though I believe this story of the feeding of the five thousand has far deeper, richer, and more profound implications for us to ponder this morning.

         At the heart of this story lies a contrast in attitudes toward abundance.  Phillip personified one attitude, the one that is all too prevalent in our churches today. 

         “It’s not gonna work, Jesus. It’s a bad idea.  Forget it:  We will never have enough to feed this bunch, fund this mission, create this opportunity for transformation. We do not have enough money, time, energy, or volunteers – not that we have actually asked anyone other than the usual suspects to do any of those things, but we just know.  It’s not gonna work, Jesus.  It’s a bad idea.” 

         Philip was defeated before he even got started – like so many of our struggling churches are. 

He had zero imagination, zero faith in the power of God to do what seems impossible, zero motivation to take action, to do something, to start somewhere.  Phillip lived his life in scarcity.

         In contrast, Andrew at least took a stab at solving the problem.  Andrew tried to engage the congregation on the hillside.  Sure, 4999 of them said no, but one said yes – and that was enough to get the ball rolling.  That was enough to give Jesus what he needed to show them just how powerful God was.  That was enough to feed five thousand people and still have twelve baskets of leftovers.  Andrew realized that you have to start somewhere.

         If Andrew did not live his life in abundance, at least he lived it open to the possibility of abundance.  At least he lived it knowing that there is no hope for abundance if you do not share what you have – be it time, talents, or treasures. 

         That Phillip and Andrew were a contrast in attitudes in something we might reflect on as a congregation.  And so I ask you:  What is the core attitude of our church?  Abundance or scarcity?

         Nestled close to these attitudes toward abundance in our story is the notion that God can do great things with even small amounts – like stale bread and not-so-fresh fish. Perhaps the story might illustrate for us that God can – and, given the chance, will - use not only the gifts and strengths that we know we have, but God is also apt to use those parts of us that are broken and that we have written off as weaknesses. 

         Blogger Jonathan Davis wrote, “Sometimes I hear people talk about the way things used to be for our churches.  Back when the church was packed and the offering plates full.  Back when parents didn’t have to make their kids go to church. They wanted to go to church.  But maybe this time in the church when things are a little uncertain, when the pews aren’t full, when we wonder if the offering will pay all the bills… maybe that’s rich and fertile soil in which God can use us to do great things.”

         Maybe it is like God asking us, “So – what do you have to offer?”  And we answering, “Nothing really. We are not big on numbers, and we are running a deficit budget.  We are open to your Spirit though and have a willingness (no, an enthusiasm) to go wherever the Spirit leads – for what that is worth.  But for all intents and purposes, that is about it.”  

          To which God replies, “Fantastic.  I can work with that.” 

         “Here are my loaves – and a couple of fish,” the boy said.  “Maybe they will help.”  If you want to do something great, do not sit paralyzed waiting for the perfect moment – because it will never come.  Do something generous - big or small – today.  And while you are at it, let that feeling of abundance, of sharing, of generosity get under your skin and begin to work on you, for that is how the kingdom will be ushered in.  That is how the world will be transformed – through your imperfect moments of sharing and your times of generosity and your trust that God can work with just about anything.

         This story illustrates that God will work with what we care to offer, so we are best off jumping in and letting the Spirit lead us.  That is something we might reflect on as a congregation.  And so I ask you:  What is the core motivation of our congregation?  To take action and do something – no matter how outrageous it seems – or to stay put, paralyzed, waiting for the perfect moment that will never come?

         The little boy who shared his lunch did not have much.  That is for sure. However, he shared all that he had and trusted that there would not only be enough to go around to the 4999 others, but that he would have his fair share as well.  You cannot talk about abundance without talking about generosity. 

         And so I challenge each one of you this week to have a heart to heart with God and with yourself about your own generosity and how that impacts your giving to this church, this place you call your spiritual home.  I am not talking about financial giving – though that should certainly be a part of your conversation. 

         The question, however, is not how generous are you but rather how much more generous could you be. How much more generous could you be with your time and your energy?  How much more generous could you be with your gifts and talents?  How much more generous could you be with your prayers?  How much more generous and open could you be with your feedback?  How much more generous could you be when it comes to being part of the solution instead of part of the problem – whatever that problem might be?  And perhaps most importantly, how much more generous could you be with the priority you assign this church in your own life that is beset by so many conflicting priorities?

         You know, the amazing thing about abundance and generosity, those concepts that lie at the heart of this miracle story, is that they are concepts that fly in the face of the faithless, the bean counters, the ones who live their lives in coffee spoons. 

         Abundance and generosity:  That we actually have the potential to live our lives that way is the real miracle in this story, and its corollary is that abundance leads only to more abundance and generosity to the same.  I know that because, well, because it all has to do with the leftovers.

         When we as individuals and as a church are committed to living lives of abundance and generosity, there will always be twelve baskets of leftovers!   And just imagine what we can do with those?  As poet and artist Jan Richardson wrote: 

Look into the hollows

of your hands

and ask

what wants to be

gathered there,

what abundance waits

among the scraps

that come to you,

what feast

will offer itself

from the fragments

that remain.

         From abundance comes more abundance.  Generosity inspires more generosity.  A little boy’s lunch feeds 5000 people.  Leftovers abound.  Now how exciting is that!

by Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond Village Community Church, U.C.C., Raymond, Maine

2 Samuel 7:1-14a "Who Needs a House"

You are welcome to use parts of this sermon, but if you do, please attribute them properly!

         David:  Seventh son of Jesse and lowly shepherd boy relegated to the back forty with the lambs.  David: Master of the slingshot and slayer of giants.  David: Lute player and songwriter.  David:  Spontaneous and joyful liturgical dancer once clad only in his skivvies.  David:  One third of an unholy trio with Uriah the Hittite and the lovely Bathsheba, prone as she was to showing off her better parts in the outdoor bathtub next door.  David:  Chosen by God to succeed Saul as king of Israel and anointed by the prophet Samuel.  David:  Mighty warrior, kingdom consolidator who took back the Holy City of Jerusalem, and beloved ruler of the Jewish people. 

         David was a complex and very human character, and today when we meet him, he is sitting pretty.  As Reformed Church pastor, Scott Hoezee writes, “we know that David is riding the crest of the wave. He’s gotten rid of his enemies. Those who opposed (him) are dead or silent. His approval ratings are sky high from the Israelites, and it’s probably true that David could at this point do pretty much whatever he wanted and he’d get away with it. The people trust him enough that if he issued a decree, an edict, or declared some new set of laws, they would assume (initially at least if not over the long haul) that it was for their good and so they’d be only too happy to follow what the king said.”  In short, the world was David’s oyster.

         And as David reclines at the table over the evening meal in his palace (or “house” as the Biblical writer so humbly puts it), chatting with his personal prophet and pastor, Nathan, the king’s rise from obscurity and all of his accomplishments have not gone to his head quite yet.  He is not so theologically naïve at this point that he does not give credit for his blessings where credit is due, that is, to God/Yahweh. 

         And as David sips his wine and tosses an olive high in the air, catching it deftly on his tongue, he muses with Nathan about the origins of his stellar good fortune and just how to give back to the God who has given him so much.  David looks around at his house, constructed from the finest cedar, and waxes theological for a moment. 

        “Why?” David asks his trusted confidant, “Why should I live in such magnificent and well-constructed surroundings while God/Yahweh (believed to be present in the old worn box, the ark of the covenant, that surely had seen better days), while God/Yahweh has only a makeshift shelter in the courtyard – an ancient piece of canvas and a bunch of worn out poles?”  David felt badly that God/Yahweh was still kicking around in a tent like the one all the Israelites had dwelt in when they had left Egypt way back when and wandered in the desert for forty years. 

         “Do you think,” David continued.  “Do you think that God/Yahweh would like to live in a cedar house too, like mine?  I could build that.  I have the architects, the materials, the labor.” 

         Well, that was probably one of the deepest thoughts that had ever popped into David’s head, much less been articulated to his prophet mentor.  And David began, right then and there, to sketch a few preliminary designs on a napkin.  I mean, after all, a temple worthy of the one true God? What a legacy for our David to leave!

         Caught unawares by this sudden turn of generosity, Nathan responded as any good pastor would to someone who wanted to actually give back to the Almighty

rather than once again asking for something – be it healing or happiness or victory in battle or some such fleeting need.  Not surprisingly, Nathan was all over David’s idea.  It was – simply put – a slam dunk.  Surely it did not require meditation or deep prayer or even a quick check with God/Yahweh first.  The Holy One would love it!

         And so without batting an eye, Nathan replied.  “Go for it!  Sounds good to me.  If you do it, God will approve. After all, you are God’s beloved one.”

         And so David went to bed that night, happy as a clam, with visions of not sugarplums but blueprints dancing in his head.  Nathan, on the other hand, went to bed and slept only fitfully, his night punctuated by disturbing dreams, not the least of which was the one where God/Yahweh came to the old prophet and told him in no uncertain terms that he had overstepped his bounds and had better call a halt to David’s high and mighty thinking right away before things got out of hand and the hammers started hammering and the saws started sawing. 

        Episcopal priest Mary Brennan Thorpe imagines the nocturnal conversation this way: “You’re not the one to figure out whether I need a temple (God insisted). I’ve been traveling alongside my people in an ark and a tent since I took you all out of Egypt. At any time, have I said ‘I want a house of cedar?’ No, you boys are missing the point. YOU don’t get to say when and where I need a house. I am the one who decides about the house thing….and this is what I have to say about it: I’ve got it under control. I made you king, and I will give my people Israel a land of their own, and I will build a house…but it won’t be a house made of cedar. It will be a house made of the generations of those who follow you. I’ll take care of David’s people and defend them against their enemies. That’s the house that will be built.” Now, Nathan, you go tell David that that’s all I’ve got to say about that.

`        Yikes!  Well, you can imagine how David felt when he got this news the next morning.  Here he was with a hundred design concepts in his head, and Nathan was telling him that God/Yahweh was nixing the house idea.  Just when you think you know the Almighty….

         So David spent a fair amount of time that morning prostrate before the ark of the covenant, praying his heart out in the ancient tent with the ripped canvas and worn out poles,

trying to wrap his brain around what he wanted for God/Yahweh and what the Holy One wanted for him, had in store for him. 

         It was all very confusing – God/Yahweh being a sacred punster of sorts – playing on words and their meanings, one against the other.  Take the word, “house,” for example. 

         There was David’s house – or palace – the one built of the finest cedar where David took his evening meals and from which he ruled a newly united kingdom.  Then there was the house – or temple – that David wanted so desperately to build to honor God/Yahweh - and maybe a little bit to bolster his own legacy too. 

         Then there was the house that the Holy One referenced in that most disturbing dream that Nathan the prophet had dreamt, from the sacred perspective apparently the most important house of all – a dynasty, a promise that Israel would be ruled down through the ages by David’s descendants.  “You will always have descendants (God promised), and I will make your kingdom last forever. Your dynasty (your house) will never end.”

         Yes, it was all terribly bewildering.  However, when all was said and done, after his time or prayer in the old ragged tent, David seemed to understand the situation a bit better. 

You see, if we were to read further in this story, we would find David proclaiming:  “And now, Sovereign Lord, you are God; you always keep your promises, and you have made this wonderful promise to me. I ask you to bless my descendants so that they will continue to enjoy your favor.”

         So - in the end – David got it.  He understood – at least for the moment – first, the idea that you do not always know what God has in mind and sometimes you have to let go of your best-laid plans and most entrenched perspectives.  And second, when God makes promises, you just have to believe that the Holy One will keep those promises.  And third, there are more important things in life than a house – even a fine one built of cedar.

         And so we, all these millennia later, are challenged as David was challenged to understand as David finally understood.  We are challenged to reflect on this little Old Testament, Hebrew Scripture story and figure out what it says about us, about our relationship with God, and about the church.  And what will we find if we take on this challenge?

        First, like David, we too will discover that we do not always know what God has in mind for us, and sometimes we too need to let go of our best-laid plans and perspectives, follow where the Spirit seems to be leading us, and embrace the idea that God always has something new to say to us.

         As Episcopal priest Mary Brennan Thorpe wrote, “That puts us in an uncomfortable place, because we want our God to be tame and well-defined, a God for whom we can build a temple in which to keep God locked away. But our God is not a tame god. ‘I am who I am’ cannot be easily fit into a box.”

         You see, though in the end, God may be unchangeable, our understanding of God cannot be.  It must always evolve as the Spirit leads us in new directions and new ways of thinking.  Gay marriage?  Immigration reform?  Health care? 

         Tough issues, and we are likely to disagree about just where the Spirit is heading when it comes to them.  And yet, in spite of our differing opinions, we must always keep seeking together, always keep trying to discern what God has in mind, and, most importantly, always keep talking. 

         And it will not be easy - that’s for sure.  However, as one of our Worship Grant Colloquium leaders said several times:  “A difficult conversation is still a conversation.”  It is only together – in community – that we will be able to discern where the Spirit may be taking us next. 

         Second, like David, we too must strive to believe that when God makes promises, the Holy One will keep those promises.  However, as David found out, it is not up to us to dictate just what those promises are.  Rather we are called to trust that in all our days – no matter whether they are filled with soaring joy or the deepest of pain – in all our days God has promised us life, love, and God’s presence in all our struggles.  And maybe it is that precious relationship with God – cemented through the covenant articulated to David in this little story about cedar houses – maybe it is that eternal bond with God that is the promise we cling to most of all. 

         And finally, like David, we too will need to acknowledge that there are more important things in the world than a house, than a temple, than the four walls of this sanctuary even.  In David’s time, God/Yahweh lived in a tent for a reason.  God would not allow God’s self to be boxed in. 

         God was – and still is – a nomad, not content to be tied down to a temple or a church.  In short, if you want to find God, leave the building.  If you want to find God, don’t stay here, but look for God’s tent out in the neighborhood.  Look for it among the poor, among the world’s refugees, among the ones who know no peace. 

         Sorry folks, but God does not reside in this building – beautiful and comfortable for us as it might be.  God does not need this building – just as God did not need a brand new cedar house like the one David wanted to build.

         God was looking – is still looking - for a different kind of house:  It is that play on words again.  God was looking to build a house in the sense of a kingdom, a kingdom birthed by a promise to David, flowing through time and space by way of the prophets – “there shall come forth a stump from the shoot of Jesse” - down through the ages to Jesus himself, he who embodied all that this kingdom, this sacred dynasty, this house was meant to be. 

         What David and Nathan did not understand was that God/Yahweh did not mind living in a tent because there would one day come a time when God would “tent” among the people once again,

when God would move into the neighborhood and dwell among us – even us, full of grace and truth – and our best laid plans and perspectives would be shattered even as the sacred promise was fulfilled.  Oh David, there is so much more to life than a house, even a fine one built of cedar! 

by Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond Village Community Church U.C.C., Raymond, Maine

Luke 10:25-37 "Maine Seacoast Mission Reflections 2015"

You are welcome to use parts of this sermon, but if you do, please attribute them properly!

INTRODUCTION

         What makes our mission trip different than those of many other churches who spend a week at Maine Seacoast Mission is that I as pastor build in both a morning and evening reflection, a chance to talk about our experiences in a focused way. In addition, we share our meals together and say grace at dinnertime. 

         This year, during our morning reflection, we read the story of the Good Samaritan – a different translation daily but with each of us reading the same verse each day.  We did that because sometimes a different word or turn of phrase can inject a deeper meaning into such  a well-known Biblical story.

          Every evening, our reflection centered on a word that had been generated by the letter that everyone had been assigned prior to the week.  The word each of us chose to correspond to our given letter was to somehow reflect our experience on this mission trip. 

         Each one of us also keeps a journal of our week – thoughts, questions, whatever we want to write about.  Some write lots and some write just a little.  As pastor, I have no expectations. 

         But everyone on the trip knows that I will be sharing excerpts from these journals with all of you. So – our journal entries that I will read will set the scene for the trip and our leave-taking and then will be grouped under the words we chose.  

THE SETTING

Washington County: You hear the statistics; poorest county in Maine, one of the poorest in the Nation, etc., but there is no substitute for experiencing the reality.  The county is empty.  Not vast open spaces empty like Aroostook County; rather, depleted, depopulated, defeated - a rural equivalent of a once-great city fallen on hard times; empty buildings, empty, decaying houses and barns, empty lots where people's businesses once stood, and then the ubiquitous single-wide trailers, some new, most ancient and decrepit, that seem to house the vast majority of the county's remaining people.  Prosperity ends at Ellsworth.  Just thirty miles east of there the objective reality is that people still live in the Great Depression...

 “Anticipation already.  This week will “rock!” “

“Good trip up after a wonderful send off from the church.  The camaraderie of this group is always so strong.  It’s great to be part of this group again.”

“Such a wonderful send-off.  When we sang, ‘Here I Am, Lord,’  - the women singing the first verse and everyone joining in for the refrain, the music just soared.  It brought both tears and goose bumps – not only to me but also, I noticed, to some sitting in the pews.  We rocked the rafters. “

“Here I Am, Lord” sung as we were ready to leave church has always brought tears.  I’m not usually an emotional person, but that music…touches my deepest parts about the Christ message and example.”

Here’s what we have been assigned to do this week.  We won’t all be at one site as we have been in the past but will split ourselves into three teams working on three separate trailers in diverse levels of need and disrepair:

         Trailer #1 – put up bead board paneling on all the walls

         Trailer #2 – some demolition work, then painting the interior

         Trailer #3 - painting a couple of small decks, ramp, and exterior stairs

         Now for our own 2105 Maine Seacoast Mission Alphabet of Grace which hopefully will give you an idea of our week.  And thanks to Frederick Buechner for this wonderful turn of phrase.  

A is for ABUNDANT

We have such abundance, and we are going to an area known for its lack of abundance.  We have financial abundance, and there is little of that in Washington County.  Closely linked to our financial abundance seems to be our abundance of hope – hope for the future, hope that we can make a difference, hope that we can change lives –

and so we travel to an area of our State where an abundance of hope is not often found.  Maine Seacoast Mission is trying to change that perspective, however, and, through their programs, are committed to bringing forth a hope for the future and a hope that lives can indeed be changed.

“Hard but good to see where some of the local families live and how they live – reminds me of the range of our blessings – material and personal.”

“I felt like a voyeur driving through Grantville and St. George and having poverty pointed out to me.  Seems we each, in any circumstances, is owed privacy from prying. “

“Our group certainly has abundance here with the fellowship and our teamwork.”

I lay awake for a long time that first night.  When I looked outside the window, there were fireflies in abundance.”

We had an abundance of food at the monthly public supper Wednesday night at the Congregational Church in Cherryfield (U.C.C.) – ham, peas, scalloped potatoes, coleslaw, and homemade pie.

“On the church sign, they say they are the ‘small church with the big Yankee heart.’ What about the Red Sox fans?  Our dear departed friend, Muriel Yeager, would never let us put that on our sign! All kidding aside, it was nice to be part of the community and really support them also.”

B is for BREATH

The breath of the Spirit flowing in and amongst us as we work.  The breath of life.  The breath of hope.  A breath of fresh air for people whose lives have gone stale. 

The first breath of a newborn baby.  The breath of newness. 

Besides those metaphorical breaths, there is the breath of sea-sent breezes (so welcome in the heat of the day, a steady, sunny heat that caused many of us that first day to wilt around 2:00 P.M.: 

Went looking for my sunscreen.  Who would have guessed that I would have chosen two empty tubes from the 15 options available.  Ah well….). 

Breath:  the song of a bird on a wire, Tom’s huffs as he painted beneath the deck. 

Breath:  Laughter – “Lots of work today, but lots of fun too.  It’s been a long time since I laughed so hard.  Slightly punchy at the end of the day.”  “Jeff is inspiring the group with his witty wisdom.”  “Martha started laughing at dinner over something silly that was said.  I’m not sure she could even stop for a while!”

C is for COMFORT

Giving comfort to those we seek to serve but also being able to receive comfort from them:  “We have never received outside help before but our health challenges and age limit us.”  This couple (Anita and Hollis), who are in their 70’s and active, will be celebrating their 60^th wedding anniversary this August (She got married when she was 14).  They checked on us regularly and were eager to provide iced pink lemonade and general good will.”

“Painting was all ‘in the sun’ today and it was HOT but we knew we were doing good stuff and kept our spirits high while the home owners encouraged us constantly. “  

Comfort – as in what we hope to give back to our families up here – comfort in the place they live and share with families and friends – protection against the weather and hopefully a place of some peace.”

“The messages that you, our congregation, sent have been amazing.  Thank you for all your heartfelt notes.  We read a few each morning and each evening. “

“The notes from the congregation are a real nice part of this trip.  They provide a nice piece of inspiration and help us connect with members of our congregation who are not here.  So far they have been read at just the right moment.”

“We spoke about providing comfort in the form of safety  (that is, a safe place to live) as well as the comfort our group received in the form of the hospitality” we received from Anita and , the elderly couple whose decks we stained..”

Comfort:  lunch together, shade found for lunch, the easy relationships among us – no whiners or snobs.

Comfort:  cool breezes on a hot and humid day.  How pleasant to sit outside the chapel in the shade with a breeze after my shower – just what I needed!  I’m just basking in God’s beauty on earth and a few moments of quiet….looking at the sky through the leaves – an endlessly changing view. 

D is for DELIVER

“The conditions” of the project look more manageable this year.  The outline of the family position painted a picture of challenging circumstances but not hopelessness like last year.  So, as a “D” word person, I am more DETERMINED not to get DEPRESSED.

Delivering on our promises of a job well done and done to a certain standard of excellence – certainly not perfection, but of a relatively high quality. But thanks for molding, which I am told covers a multitude of sins!

A lot of care taken in the way we deliver on our promises. – panels nailed and walls painted with love and hope as well as nails and paint?

Cutting, measuring, making progress all morning long

“Worked hard today and got a lot done.  Our team working on the trailer #1 really learned how to work like a well-oiled machine today.”

“God bless a more modern trailer – reasonably square and with standardized measurements.”

“We will lose the leadership we receive from Joe this morning as he must leave (for a business trip).  I suspect his story will be like that of others who have had to leave early and will be one of regret. 

But we have a well-oiled machine and will persevere.  Thank you, Joe.  We will miss you.”

Incredible the measuring, re-cutting, back and forth for tools – sort of like God and all his people needing nudges, rescuing, and love. 

Wow!  How could it be Thursday already?  We have accomplished so much – painting at Anita and Hollis’ trailer.  Painting at Trailer #3, lots of bead board and a closet and stairs and painting at Trailer #1.  It feels good!

E is for ENLIGHTEN

“Gaining insight from the work effort. “

The age-old question:  Who is deserving and who is not?  How do you decide?  Are there standards or guidelines?  Should there be?  What might they be?  Those are questions our team raised in an evening reflection and about which some of us talked the following day with Wendy Harrington, Director of Service Programs.  The Mission too is struggling with how to best use and leverage its financial base – who and how to serve this community.

Where is the difference between serving the client and pandering to them?  How do you help but not enable?  How do you make that transition from giving a man a fish to teaching him to fish on his own in a sustaining and sustainable way?

We went from Anita and Hollis’ well-kempt and obviously well-loved trailer and home to Trailer #2.  How does Maine Seacoast Mission decide if a trailer is even salvageable?  This one looks to be in terrible shape – both inside and out.  Someone enlighten us please!

Some of those we serve lack the ability to do their own home maintenance, whether due to illness or aging.  Others live lives of astonishing ill fortune.  Still others seem to be defeated by circumstance, to have given up under the burdens of trying to make a living in a place where earning a living can be so difficult.  Still others - the most troubling ones - seem perfectly capable of bearing their own weight and making their own way, yet do not. “

F is for FAIN

Willing – but eagerly and with joy, gladly.

This group as a whole wants to work and does not complain, is generally willing to do what is assigned, aims to work and pull together.  What a treat!

We have come a long way since that first trip when I felt I had not much in the way of skills to offer, when Martha relegated herself to picking up nails and fetching tools, when Marie and Judy were in much the same place.  Now – three years later, we have the Chop Saw Queen (Marie), the Co-Nailgun Queens (Marie and Nancy), the Power Drill Princesses (Nancy and Judy).  And Martha is measuring and cutting foam insulation with the best of them.  So many thanks to Joe, Chuck, and Jeff for their patience and willingness to not only teach but also on occasion to even give up their circular saws and multi-purpose hole cutting tools.

These trips have had an unintended benefit in that they have more and more effectively broken down gender stereotypes, with the men more and more willing to share what they know and share the more skilled work, and the women more and more willing to step up and take a chance, learning as a consequence that they CAN run a chopsaw, use a screwgun, wield a nailgun, measure and and accurately cut a hole for an electrical outlet.  Given where gender roles have been for literally thousands of years, these outcomes are positively subversive!

“I learned how to use a nail gun to complete the S-closets.”

Fain:  “A day with a paint brush in my hand, paint all over my staining decks and a ramp – complete with smile and chuckle lines active.”

“Tom and I were under the deck painting…It is calming to brush stain over wood in various yoga positions but not in a spiritual sense – in satisfaction of an appreciated job. “

“There have been many ‘be still and know that I am God’ times when rustling leaves and bird song accompany the slosh of brush against wood….I had an opportunity to share (these) with my paint partner who commented that sometimes just being with God helps the head.”

“A day of variety:  S-closet in the A.M., pizza lunch at the Maine Seacoast Mission offices, packing ‘backpacks’ of food for the kids, chatting with Wendy Harrington about the evolution of the mission and the needs of the people, back to cut closet foam board, supper out.  My spiritual awareness was tuned on low today.  Nothing seems to turn my mind Godward.  There was no ‘be still and know that I am God’ among 8 other people!”

“I think we have a very tired group tonight.  The aches, pains, and sunburned faces were well-earned today.”

  

G is for GALVANIC

“Sudden and dramatic.” 

Paradigm shifts – or at least being part of the beginnings of attitude changes for the people we work with. 

“Galvanic describes our twice daily reflections of readings, letters, and singing.  This gathering time should be emulated by every group.”

Galvanic “really fits me today and last night. To go from the cleanliness and neatness of the trailer (where we painted the deck) and end up amidst the mess in the new place (where I will be working) caused me to wonder if we are truly making a difference.”

As we pull into the location I immediately have a flash-back from last year.  The yard is in rough shape with a lot of debris, the trailer itself is older, with no skirting and insulation hanging from underneath and just gives off a ‘down and out’ aura.  Upon entering and walking through the inside it’s apparent this single parent and pre-teen child need our assistance.  It’s drab, depressing, and smells.  A team of three, we tackle removing cabinet doors and covering the items indicated to not be painted. 

We move appliances to the middle of the room (though we have to leave them plugged in) and begin the task of priming.  It’s overwhelming. I’m feeling not only depressed but tired, hot, and just a bit out of sorts. I leave the site feel dirty, depressed, and in general ‘troubled’. 

 Such an emotional downturn.  Aged cat urine pooled under the refrigerator.  I was not offended by the smell, but it was just very defeating.  We went and got some baking soda and spread it around for tomorrow.  My hope is that some of the cat smell is dissipated…..

By Day 4, the ceiling (of this old trailer) is painted and all the walls have been primed.  Some of the pink passion fruit paint for the 12 year-old daughter’s room has been started.  It definitely looked a lot better than before.”

We met the very young mother (Tara) and her daughter (Michaela) who have been living in this dilapidated and smelly trailer we are helping to rehab.  I better understand the choice of pink passion fruit paint as both her hair and her mother’s are streaked with pink – must be a favorite color.  To put faces to the clients we are serving can be a galvanic experience all by itself.  Perhaps that will teach us to not judge them quite so quickly or to label their trailer as the “ghetto” trailer with quite such condescension. 

 H is for HOPE

“Hope for children who live in poverty and know only that as an example of life.”

“Maybe we can’t change the adults but perhaps we can help the kids out of poverty.”

“Hope (and hopeful) is what we brought with us, what we become through our work, what we hope to bring to those we serve.”

The Maine Seacoast Mission program is evolving into one that is trying to take a more coordinated approach yet is flexible enough to deal with crises and emergencies.  “I think that should make the mission more effective in getting long term results.”

I had highs, lows, and so much diversity thrown my way.  I’ve got aches, bruises, an a bit of a sunburn but I came through the door at home with a sense that I’d in a small way done something good.  If we could all remain hopeful and strive to move forward it would keep us in the mindset of the glass half full. 

I is for INSIGHTFUL

“Great insights often come from the most unexpected places.  During a discussion with Chuck and Martha on applied mathematics and Fibonacci numbers, I picked up this factoid from Chuck:  You only sneeze in prime numbers…..The next sneezes I hear, I will be counting….”

Morning and evening reflections:  Seeking to better understand and learn to do the Lord’s work.

What do I learn from the Lord and Anita this week? Anita is always there to notice and encourage, wanting to chat, to listen, and be listened to.  It’s not so different from our relationship with God:  I believe he always puts things in our path – hopes we’ll listen, hopes we’ll see the needs and opportunities and imagine our way into addressing those.   But how to stay attuned and nurture this relationship?  Maybe by taking time to read the messages from his Word and from our daily experiences.  Oh why do I overthink this?  Maybe just try to continue to be as we were like this week when I get home – serving, engaging, hoping.

“I have never kept a journal before, and I’m not the best writer.  I was going to write down what I did every day, but you can see the pictures for that.  I did learn something new every day from everybody on the mission.  I will tell you some things I learned about life:  Never underestimate people or be too quick to judge them until you know them.  Don’t think that everybody works or thinks the same way that I do.  Everybody is different.  Any job is as hard as you make it.”

  

J is for JUMPSTART

I came here hoping that we could not only jumpstart the lives of the people we touch but also jumpstart new relationships and friendships amongst ourselves.  And I see that that hashappened: Chuck, Martha, and Judy made such a wonderful team as they proudly completed the new dividing wall and closets they constructed in the now separate bedrooms and private spaces these sisters at Trailer #1 will enjoy. 

New relationships:  “Worked with people I had not worked with much until this trip.  Had fun.”

Jumpstart:  How do we use this experience we have had to jumpstart and engage the RVCC congregation in meaningful local service experiences – to offer them an opportunity to get some of the benefit and connection (comfort, hope enlightenment, etc.) that we have gotten this week?

And what of us?  Is forty workdays out of a given year sufficient?  Is it even necessary?  What else can/should we do as a Church to support this Mission?  What can/should we do as a Church to address exactly the same situations that we know exist right in Raymond?  I have no good answers.  But I do know that NOT answering such questions, and then acting on the outcomes, is morally unacceptable.   

My fondest wish would be that we could double the size of our crew in the years to come so that more of the members of the Church can experience what it feels like to be part of The Team. 

SOME OF THE THINGS I LEARNED:

         Under certain circumstances, Martha “giggles” (sometimes uncontrollably)

         Nancy and Marie are nail gun queens

         Judy sticks with Chuck (formerly an actuary) to check his math on fractions

         Jeff works without complaining and without asking for help – and he is a very funny guy

         Tom paints with abandon

         Sue is the person to have on hand when first aid is needed and seems also to know when good conversation is the best medicine

         Chuck can figure “all the angles”

CONCLUSION

The other letters in our alphabet of grace perhaps are yours to find words for.  For now, it is “hard to believe our week is almost over.  We have worked hard, had a lot of laughs, worked well as a group, and really clicked as a group at many levels.  The need here is great, but I truly feel we have done all that w could have in a week.  There will be other groups coming in to finish what we started on two out of our three jobs.”

“Didn’t find a religious symbol on the ground as I have in past years but saw hanging from a hemlock a colorful chain of circles making infinity symbols:  That’s God in time and distance!

         I mentioned at the start of this sermon of sorts that we shared a grace together at each evening meal.  We did that by forming a pile of stones, each stone representing a blessing or something we were thankful for each day of our week together.  Those are the stones you find on the altar.  We watched that pile grow bigger and bigger as the week progressed – but knew it could never contain all the blessings and learnings God had bestowed upon us and we had bestowed upon each other.

And so it was most appropriate that we ended our grace each day with a song, which we wanted all of us to sing.  The tune is to Amazing Grace, and the words are on the screen.

by our 2015 Maine Seacoast Mission Team